


Ten Minutes Ago I Met You

by empressearwig



Series: The Bridgertons Play Hockey [3]
Category: Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cinderella Elements, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 14:04:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11163387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empressearwig/pseuds/empressearwig
Summary: Sophie Beckett isn't Cinderella, but Benedict Bridgerton might be prince charming. (A Bridgertons Play Hockey AU.)





	Ten Minutes Ago I Met You

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to torigates for making me work on this and to katayla for the help and to spyglass for walking me through the finer points of New York inheritance law, even if I mostly ignored them in the name of plot.

> Though every hockey player dreams of ending the season hoisting Lord Stanley's Cup, it is a fate that is reserved for a select few. Sadly, our Rangers were not those that fortune favored this season and they have hung up their skates for the summer.
> 
> Never fear, though, because our favorite hockey family has given us one last gossip gift before the hockey world scatters to the four corners of Canada. Rangers winger (and Bridgerton in-law), Simon Basset, is hosting an event for his charity, Simon Says. While this isn't remarkable in and of itself, get this: it will be a masquerade ball.
> 
> The guest list is said to be a who's who of New York's charitable elite, as well as many of the NHL's most philanthropic players. I am personally very interested to see the costumes that our remaining eligible Bridgerton brothers choose for this party.
> 
> Can the famously mute Benedict be anything other than a mime? Will our wandering Bridgerton, Colin, opt for donning the garb of his clear spiritual hero, Indiana Jones?
> 
> Watch this space. We're getting pictures.
> 
> ~ Excerpted from Sources Say, _The New York Post_

***

"You're going to a parrrrrty."

Sophie Beckett didn't look up from her laptop. She knew without looking that her assistant, Gabby, was standing over her desk with her arms crossed over her chest and an impatient look on her face. It was the way that Gabby always looked at her when it came to Sophie's lack of social life. Sophie knew it well.

"I can't," Sophie said. "Maybe next time."

"You don't even know which party I'm talking about," Gabby said, with a huff.

At this, Sophie looked up with a wry expression on her face. "Does it matter? We both know that Ari and her daughters steal the invitations to all the parties I'm invited to, as soon as they come in from the mailroom."

Gabby held up a piece of cardstock and waved it triumphantly. "Not this one!"

Sophie frowned. It wasn't like her step-monster to miss a chance to drink the night away while Sophie toiled to support them. "How did you manage that?"

"Delivered by courier to the office," Gabby said, waving it in Sophie's face. "Don't you want to know?"

It was clear that _Gabby_ wanted to know, and Sophie was the type of boss who was a pushover for her employees. She held out her hand and Gabby handed the invitation over with a look of triumph on her face.

Sophie held it for a moment, assessing. The envelope had weight, so it was clear that money had been spent on presentation. There was no return address, which she supposed was logical if it had been delivered by courier. It was addressed to Penwood Associates, not her or anyone else, which was strange. She knew she didn't go to a lot of parties, but people were usually invited and not companies, right?

"Open it!" Gabby demanded, with a laugh. "Why do you insist on torturing me?"

"Okay, okay," Sophie said, reaching for a scissors. She slit the back of the envelope and drew out the invitation. 

She read it. Blinked.

She read it again. It did not change.

"Oh, give me that," said Gabby, snatching it from Sophie's hand. She cleared her throat and read it out loud. "Simon and Daphne Basset would like to invite you and a guest to the first annual Basset Masquerade Gala in thanks for your support of Simon Says. The event will be held, blah blah." Gabby looked at Sophie with wide eyes. "If you don't go to this party, I will never forgive you."

"I don't understand why we got invited," Sophie said, taking the invitation back from Gabby. "This must be a mistake, right?"

"I know we've donated to them before," said Gabby. "Quite a lot, in fact. I'd say that if this invitation is a thank you, it's completely well deserved."

"I don't need to be thanked," Sophie said. "It's a good charity. And I _can't_ go to this party. You know I can't."

"Why?"

Sophie fixed Gabby with a flat stare. "Ari would kill me if she knew that I was going to a party with the Bridgerton family and she wasn't. Rosamund must be given all chances to make eligible connections, after all. Besides, she makes my life difficult enough, by using Penwood as an ATM. I don't want to make it worse." She shrugged and set the invitation down. "I'll send this to her on Monday and she'll go and won't thank me for it. Remind me to put it in the mail, please. Now, talk to me about our potential Buffalo expansion plans? Have we been able to secure enough staff?"

Sophie busied herself with her laptop, pulling up the most recent spreadsheet. She didn't hear what Gabby said next.

"We'll just see about that," Gabby muttered.

***

Benedict Bridgerton was not a man who was at home at parties.

He liked being alone. If he was going to spend time with people, he liked actually knowing who he was spending time with. He could do the whole city social thing, but at heart, he just wanted to be in the country with only his peace and quiet for company. 

In short, Benedict was every terrible goalie stereotype brought to life, and he was completely fine with that.

Just because he was a hermit by choice didn't mean he didn't understand how to play the game, though. It was impossible to grow up with seven siblings and not be able to fake your way through a party or ten. And at least this party was for a good cause. If he had to put on a monkey suit and a stupid mask and make nice with a bunch of strangers, Benedict supposed that helping kids was a good reason to do it.

"Hello, dear," said his mother.

Benedict nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned his head and there she was, when he knew damn well she hadn't been there five seconds before. "Where did you come from?" he demanded. "You need a bell."

"Is that any way to talk to your mother?" Violet Bridgerton said. 

Benedict swore he could see her eyebrow arching at him from behind her mask. He bent to kiss her cheek. "My apologies. I was still recovering from the shock. May I suggest the aforementioned bell so that similar incidents may be avoided in the future?"

"I like being able to sneak up on my children," said Violet. "You're all so much larger than me that I have to take my advantages where I can find them."

Benedict laughed. "You have all the advantages and you know it."

"Well, I work very hard for them," Violet said. She tapped him on the chest with her clutch. "Now, I did come over here for a reason."

He didn't groan, but it was a near thing. "Who is it this time?"

"I'm not matchmaking!" Violet protested. She lifted her chin towards the terrace doors. "Do you see the woman over there in pale yellow? Bright orange tiger mask?"

Benedict winced. It wasn't an aesthetically pleasing combination. "Yes?"

"That's Eloise's friend, Penelope. She doesn't know very many people here, so be a good boy and ask her to dance."

"That's it?" Benedict asked, somewhat surprised. Usually his 'requests' from his mother came with many more strings attached. 

"That's all," said Violet. "I knew I could count on you."

Benedict shrugged. Penelope was nice enough. And god knew dancing with her was vastly preferable to dancing with any of the women his mother was usually pushing in his direction. "Happy to do it."

"Excellent," said Violet. She gave him a little shove. "How about doing it now?"

"Yes, mother," said Benedict.

Knowing full well that his mother was watching his every move, Benedict started across the room with every intention of asking Penelope to dance. But before he made it more than ten steps away, he stopped dead in his tracks.

A woman stood alone on the stairs, dressed in a pale blue dress and a silver mask. She was the most beautiful woman that Benedict had ever seen.

A feeling came over him, the same kind of instinctive feeling that told him where pucks were headed and how to stop him. He knew that if he didn't talk to her immediately, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

To a fault, Benedict trusted his instincts. 

He bolted for the stairs. He would apologize to Penelope later. He had to meet the girl on the stairs.

***

It only took a minute for Sophie to realize that she'd made a terrible mistake.

To start, nearly all the women wore black, the better to set off their brightly colored half masks. There were pockets of color, to be sure, but in the ice blue dress that she'd let Gabby talk her into, there was no denying that Sophie stood out like a sore thumb. Even if she could ignore that, it took Sophie only seconds to spot her stepmother and sisters standing amidst the crowd. Ari appeared to be browbeating Posy about something, which wasn't unusual at all and Rosamund's nose was firmly in the air, as if she was above it all.

Sophie didn't know how they'd gotten an invitation, but she wasn't about to stay to find out. She needed to leave before they spotted her and made her life hell for the next year at least.

She turned to go, but a hand on her arm stopped her.

"You weren't leaving, were you?"

Sophie stopped and looked at the hand on her arm. She traced the hand up, from arm to shoulders to neck to face. Even with the mask, she knew who he was. Despite what Gabby thought, she didn't live under a rock in Buffalo. She knew the sports teams and she knew that the man who had his hand on her was Benedict Bridgerton.

She just had no idea what to _do_ with that information. She looked back down at where his hand was still on her arm, then back up at his face.

Benedict frowned, and immediately let go. "I'm sorry," he said. "I promise, my mother raised me better than to just go around and grabbing women without permission. I won't do it again."

"It's alright," Sophie said hurriedly. She hadn't meant to make him think she was frightened. "I was just--"

"Surprised?" supplied Benedict. Deliberately, he raised his hands and tucked them into his pockets. "There. So I won't be tempted again."

Sophie laughed, feeling safer despite her protestations. He might not have made her feel unsafe, but he certainly made her feel something. "I feel much safer now." 

"Good," Benedict said. "Now, back to my question…"

"Which was?" Sophie asked. It came out almost sing-songy, in a way that Sophie scarcely recognized as coming from herself. Good god, was she flirting with the man? What was she thinking? She couldn't afford that kind of distraction in her life, especially not on a night where she was already trying to hide from her step-family. 

"Are you leaving?" Benedict asked. "Because I'd very much like to ask you to dance, if you could be persuaded to stay."

Sophie snuck a look back at the ballroom. Ari was still occupied with Posy, and Rosamund seemed to have found a mark. It was probably safe. And even if it wasn't, she couldn't make herself say no. She wanted it too badly. 

"Yes," she said. "But could we stay at the edges of the dance floor? There's someone I'd rather not see."

Behind his mask, Sophie could sense Benedict's eyebrows going up. "A woman with a past," he said. "I'll suppress my urge to ask all sorts of nosy questions for this first dance, but if you give me a second, I'm warning you, all bets are off."

"You're on," Sophie said recklessly. There was every chance that she'd pay for this later, but she wanted this one night of magic where she could pretend that she was the sort of woman who could attract someone like Benedict. It might never come again and Sophie was going to grab onto it with every ounce of strength she possessed.

Benedict held out his elbow. "Shall we?"

Sophie tucked her arm through his. "Let's dance."

***

They'd crossed the dance floor to a secluded corner and Benedict had taken his mystery woman in his arms, and somehow, he still couldn't quite believe his luck. She'd stayed, when it was completely obvious that she'd wanted to flee.

He was arrogant enough to take credit. He was male enough to want to pound his chest and let the entire world know that she'd chosen him. He was possessive enough to want to hide here in this corner so that no other man could see her and try to steal her away.

And if he said any of that out loud, he knew just how crazy he would sound to this woman that he only wanted to impress so that she'd agree to spend the rest of her life with him.

He tried to focus. He wasn't Colin, but he wasn't terrible with woman either. He knew how to talk to them, or he had until he'd spotted her on the stairs. He just had to remember how. He blurted out the first question that came to mind. "What's your name?"

To her very great credit, his mystery woman didn't laugh. "I thought this was a masquerade," she said. "Shouldn't that preclude names?"

"Well, I need something to call you," he protested. "Unless you want me to call you mystery woman all night."

Behind her silver masque, Benedict could sense her eyebrows raising. "All night? What makes you think that you'll have the pleasure of my company for the rest of the night?"

"A challenge," Benedict said, with a grin. God, she was so perfect for him and she didn't even realize it. "I accept."

She huffed out a little laugh, and it was the most adorable thing that Benedict had ever heard. "Are all of your brothers like you? Your poor mother."

"They're worse," Benedict said. Then his eyes narrowed. All of his brothers, she'd said. "You know who I am."

Her cheeks went pink. "I think so."

"But I can't know your name? That hardly seems fair." He spun her out and spun her back in, gathering her closer to his chest. "What if I said please?"

She hesitated, and Benedict could tell she was wavering. He held her eyes with his and he could see the exact moment she gave in. "Sophie."

"Sophie what?" he pressed.

She shook her head. "Just Sophie." She tossed her hair and did what he could only assume was her best imitation of coy. It didn't suit her. "A woman has to have some mystery, doesn't she?"

"I'll get it out of you," Benedict warned. 

"You'll try," Sophie countered.

Benedict dipped her to the floor, and Sophie laughed as he pulled her back up to her feet. She didn't know that by dangling that type of lure in front of him, that she'd effectively sealed her fate. 

Benedict Bridgerton did not walk away from challenges. And Sophie No Last Name was the definition of a challenge. He'd crack the puzzle and then he'd keep her. There was no other acceptable outcome.

***

Sophie couldn't believe herself. This type of audacious flirting was simply not in her makeup. She was deadlines and profit/loss statements and sacrificing everything to keep Penwood running smoothly. Flirting with handsome men was the province of women like Rosamund, who'd been born knowing how to hold herself to the best advantage and make men want her.

But still, Benedict certainly seemed interested. And god knew that Sophie was interested in him. 

She'd only had to look at him to be attracted, but it wasn't just that. Something about him made Sophie feel like she'd known him her entire life and was going to know him for the rest of it too. 

It was scary. It was exciting. It was somehow the most right thing she'd ever felt in her life.

"Do you want to get a drink?" Sophie blurted out. "Or go out to the balcony. Or somewhere else? So we could--talk?"

"Yes," Benedict said promptly.

Sophie laughed. "To which one of them?"

"All of them. Whichever one you want to do the most."

She looked at him suspiciously. "Are you always this accommodating?"

"I'm never this accommodating," Benedict said. "You should feel special."

She could feel herself blushing, and ducked her head. "I do."

"Good," he said. He lifted her chin so that he could look at her. "I want you to feel that way."

"I do," Sophie said again, and it didn't just feel like words, it felt like a precursor to something more. She needed a minute. "Meet me at the bar?"

Benedict groaned, but stepped back. "Let me guess--you're going to go powder your nose. What does that even mean, anyways?"

"And I thought you had sisters," Sophie said, tapping him on the chest with her clutch. "I'll meet you there soon--I promise."

"I'm holding you to that," Benedict warned.

Sophie smiled as she walked away, feeling Benedict's eyes at her back. She was still smiling when she entered the ladies lounge, and as she made her way past the attendants. She even smiled as she bumped into a woman who was leaving. She looked up, and the smile fell from her face.

"Posy," she whispered.

Posy's face went white. "Sophie." She took Sophie's elbow and steered her into a semi-private corner. "What are you doing here?"

"I was invited," Sophie said, jerking her arm back. "What are you doing here? I know you didn't get Penwood's invitation."

Posy grimaced. "You know Mother," she said. "She always knows someone."

"Yes, and she's alienated most of them, which is why she's always mooching off of--" Sophie let out a hard breath and tried for calm. "Let's start again. Posy, does your mother know I'm here tonight?"

"Did you see her attacking you on the dance floor and demanding you leave?" Posy retorted.

"I'm going to take that as a no," Sophie said. "Are you going to tell her?"

Behind the masque, Posy almost looked hurt. "Of course not. But if you're going to go around dancing with Benedict Bridgerton--and don't bother to deny it, I saw you, even if I didn't know it was you--she's going to figure it out eventually. Mother isn't blind, and whatever you may think of her, she's not stupid either. She can put two and two together, and you don't exactly blend in that dress."

"It was a costume party!" Sophie exclaimed. "Did no one else read their invitation?"

"Clearly, you didn't come to enough of these terrible parties as a teenager," Posy said, then winced. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

Sophie held up a hand. "It's fine. Right now, I'm mostly concerned with how I can get out of here without your mother spotting me."

Posy shrugged. "Just walk out the door. She's so busy trying to snag Rosamund a rich husband, I don't think she'll notice anything else for a little while longer."

Sophie's eyes lit with hope. "Really? Maybe I have time to tell Benedict goodbye then."

The lounge door opened and Rosamund's head popped through. "Posy, what's taking so long? Mother wants you to come distract this accountant while I talk to his older brother."

"Yes, Rosamund," Posy said. She mouthed an apology to Sophie and headed for the door.

"Who was that?" Rosamund asked, as the door closed behind them. "You looked--"

Sophie didn't need to hear the rest. As soon as it seemed safe, she bolted. From the room, from the party, from the city of New York. If this night confirmed nothing else for her, it was that she belonged in Buffalo, away from her evil step-family and society and backstabbing and away from men who let her dream of more.

Benedict Bridgerton was a beautiful dream. But dreams weren't for people like Sophie. 

She'd known that, of course, but that was the thing about dreams. It wasn't a mistake she'd let herself make again.

***

> It's Christmas, and in the spirit of the season, we at Sources Say thought we'd help Santa out by making Christmas lists for some of our favorite NHL players. We'll leave it up to the big guy to decide if they've been naughty or nice.
> 
> Benedict Bridgerton - Can there be any other request for the National Hockey League's most lovelorn netminder? On behalf of all of us, Santa, please bring Benedict the most sought after blonde in all of New York. Put him (and us) out of our misery already. Let's bring this Cinderella come to life story to its fairy tale conclusion. (Glass hockey skates optional.)
> 
> ~ Excerpted from Sources Say, _The New York Post_

***

Six months later

"If I hear one more glass slipper joke, I'm going to throw one at you," Benedict said flatly, eyeing his brothers with complete and utter disdain. "I don't care that it's Christmas."

"Yes, but I do," said Violet Bridgerton. She bent down to press a kiss to the top of Benedict's head. "Don't worry, sweetheart. Maybe if you check under a few more pumpkins…"

His traitorous siblings laughed, and Benedict looked up at the ceiling. "Why me?"

"We kid because we love," said Daphne, as she waddled into the room, belly first. She was enormously pregnant, and Simon followed after her like a baby chick, trying to push her down into the closest unoccupied chair. Benedict couldn't tell if Simon thought that would help keep the baby in, but if that was the case, he had a lot of concerns about the state of his brother-in-law's education.

"And because we're mildly concerned you've been suffering from some sort of undiagnosed head injury for the last six months," Eloise added. "Are you sure that this woman exists?"

"He's a goalie," Colin scoffed. "They don't get hit."

Benedict glared first at his brother, and then at his sister. "First of all, goalies get hit plenty, asshole. Second, there are pictures, Eloise. I danced with this woman. She disappeared. I mistakenly tweeted about it. It all happened, I promise."

"Language!" chirped Hyacinth.

"You have the dirtiest mouth of all of us," said Gregory, who was home from Shattuck-Saint Mary's for Christmas. 

"Does she?" said Violet mildly. "Hyacinth, is there something you'd like to tell me?"

"You'll be short one son soon," Hyacinth said, giving Gregory her most effective death stare. "You have Simon and almost John now, though, so that's alright, isn't it?"

"It's Christmas, dear," Violet said. "Can you at least wait until after the holidays?"

Hyacinth raised a fist in triumph. Gregory took a break from stuffing his face, to look at their mother with shock. Eloise sniggered. Colin took advantage of Gregory's shock to steal the bowl of popcorn. Daphne then stole it from him. Anthony was kissing his wife, and wasn't that just a kick in the teeth that Benedict didn't need.

He wondered if anyone would miss him if he ran off and joined Francesca and her soon to be in-laws in Canada for Christmas. God knew, it would be a lot quieter.

He pushed himself up out of his chair. "Anyone want a refill?" he asked, and waited for none of them to answer him before he left the room. He let himself out onto the brownstone's front steps, not bothering to grab a coat.

It was unseasonably warm for December, but even if it weren't, being inside had been quite hot enough.

The door opened behind him, and his mother said his name. "Benny?"

He winced, but he wasn't going to tell the woman who gave birth to him that she couldn't call him what she wanted. "I'm okay, Mom. Just needed a minute."

She settled next to him on the steps, threading her arm through his. "Your siblings were being terrible, weren't they?"

"I thought we weren't allowed to be terrible, because that would be a poor reflection on you."

"You're not allowed to say you're terrible," said Violet loftily. "That's a mother's prerogative."

"Of course it is," said Benedict, kissing his mother on the top of her head. "I really am okay. I just got used to it being quieter up in Buffalo, that's all. There's just a lot of us when we're all together like this."

Violet frowned. "I don't like to think about you all alone up there. Are you sure that you don't want me to come stay for a few weeks after Christmas?"

"What would you do with Hyacinth?" he asked. "Just because she's a college freshman doesn't change the fact that she's only sixteen." 

"Didn't I tell you? She convinced me to let her move into the dorms for her next semester." She sniffled theatrically. "My last baby. Leaving me all alone in this big old house."

Benedict knew when he was being played and yet he was helpless to stand against it when it came from his very own mother. "I'd love for you to come stay with me for a few weeks. You just have to let me hire someone to deep clean it first, otherwise we'll both be scarred for life."

Violet shuddered. "I saw quite enough when you were a teenager, thank you. I'll give you the name of my cleaners. I think they're headquartered in Buffalo, actually. They're very good."

"Sounds like a plan," said Benedict. "I love you, Mom."

Violet patted his arm and stood. "I know, dear. You still have to come back inside."

Benedict groaned, but he obeyed. Arguing with his mother never ended well for him. It had only taken him twenty-eight years to learn.

***

"We have a new client request," said Gabby, as she walked into Sophie's office.

"We get at least five of those a day," Sophie said, not bothering to look away from her computer screen. "I'm assuming this one is special, because you don't usually walk into my office to tell me about them."

Gabby dropped a folder onto Sophie's keyboard. "You could say that."

Sophie really didn't want to look. Ever since she'd come back from New York in the summer and especially since the story of Benedict Bridgerton's mystery woman had blown up all over the internet, Gabby had been fiercely determined to make Sophie admit that she was that woman. Sophie had only not caved by summoning all the underhanded tactics she'd learned from growing up in a house with Ari Gunningworth. She was certain that whatever was in that folder was Gabby's next ploy.

But from the look on Gabby's face, she wasn't going anywhere until Sophie opened it, and finding a new assistant was really far too much of a hassle. 

She opened the folder and found Benedict Bridgerton's face staring back up at her. If she'd been holding it, she would have dropped it like it was a live snake.

"Gabby, what the hell is this?" Sophie demanded.

Her assistant did her best innocent child impression. "Mr. Bridgerton's assistant sent in the completed paperwork. HIs mother is apparently a client. It's a solid referral."

"Absolutely not," said Sophie, closing the folder and pushing it away. "Please tell new business to regretfully decline."

"But why?" said Gabby, eyes wide with faux shock. "Aren't you always saying that we need to grow our customer base? That we need to respect where we come from and serve the good people of Buffalo? That a referral from another customer is to be treated as utterly sacrosanct, and that we are to do everything we can to accommodate such requests for service? Those were your words, weren't they?"

"I'm sure I was never such a pompous ass about it," Sophie muttered. She reached into her desk drawer and found her bottle of antacids. Her stomach was suddenly very queasy. "It's just not a good idea."

Gabby blew out a loud breath, looking as frustrated as Sophie had ever seen her. "Okay, I've tried to be understanding about this, but do you really think I'm an idiot?"

"No?" said Sophie. "Gabby, I don't--"

"I picked out your dress!" Gabby said. She grabbed her phone from her pocket and scrolled until she found what she was looking for. "I know you didn't want to look before, but Sophie, you have to." She thrust the phone in Sophie's face. "See?"

Sophie looked. Gabby was right. No one else would be able to recognize her definitively, but her dress--the one that Gabby had insisted she wear and that Sophie had agreed to because it made her feel like Cinderella--stood out like a beacon among all the black dresses of the other women in the shot. 

She groaned.

"I'll take that as my apology for blowing me off for six months," Gabby said. "But I just don't understand why, Sophie? The man in that picture is clearly besotted. Why on earth wouldn't you want him to find you?"

Sophie dropped her head into her hands. She couldn't look at Gabby when she said it. "Ari."

"I'm sorry, what?" Gabby demanded. "How did your evil step-mother get to be involved in this?"

"I ran into Posy at the party," Sophie said.

Gabby frowned. "I thought she was the almost human one." 

"She is," Sophie said. "But Rosamund and Ari were there too, and I couldn't risk running into them."

"Oh, come on," said Gabby. "I know that Ari made your life miserable, and that your wicked step-sister wasn't much better, but what can they do to you now, Sophie? If anything, they're the ones dependent on you. You earn all the money--"

"And they spend it," finished Sophie dully. "I know. I wish that I was brave enough to just tell them all to go fuck off, but I can't let Ari have Penwood too." She looked at Gabby with beseeching eyes. " I know it's silly to care so much about a company, but it's all I have. She took everything else that was supposed to be mine." She felt her eyes well up, willed the tears back. "She took my _dad_."

"Oh, honey," said Gabby. She came around the desk and hugged Sophie's shoulders. "We won't let her have it."

Sophie leaned her head on Gabby's shoulder. "You're a good friend."

"Good enough you can forgive me for being all Bridgerton all the time?" Gabby said, with a wince. She reached out for the file folder that was still sitting on Sophie's desk. "I'll just pass this back to new business and tell them to call back and decline, and then we'll never mention the word Bridgerton again. How's that?"

"No," said Sophie, putting her hand over Gabby's to stop her from removing it. "We'll take him on. It's the right business decision."

"Are you sure?" Gabby asked.

"Positive." Sophie gave her a lukewarm smile. "After all, what are the odds that he'll ever put me together with his cleaning company? I never even told him my last name."

***

Extended road trips were the worst part of being a professional hockey player. Extended road trips right after Christmas, when you'd been conditioned as a kid to expect a long break were even worse.

When Benedict finally got home after four games in seven days in two different countries, all he wanted was a beer and to collapse into bed. He dropped his bag next to the kitchen door; he'd clean it out the next morning on the way to the dry cleaners and leave the rest for his assistant. He might have to offer her hazard pay, but at least he wouldn't be dealing with it himself.

He crossed the room to the fridge and pulled out a beer. He thumbed through a stack of mail as he opened it, tossing the mix of donation requests and junk mail into separate piles based on whether or not someone should look at them. Anything truly important would already be on his desk. One of Eloise's army of minions would have seen to that, as well as to making sure he remembered to pay his gas and electric bills. 

He took a drink and looked around the kitchen. Something about it was bugging him, but he couldn't put his finger on what. 

He shrugged and headed upstairs for the bedroom. He could figure that out later. Right now, he'd drink his beer and then collapse into bed. 

Except the light in his bedroom was on, and he was pretty certain he hadn't left it that way and he didn't have one of those timer lights in this room, because he always forgot to shut them off and would wake up suddenly blinded. But it was possible that his assistant had come through and rotated lights. She did that sometimes during a long road trip.

He nudged his way cautiously into the room. No one there, but he could hear running water in the bathroom.

"Fuck," he swore. If he had to deal with a flood right now, he was turning around and leaving and never coming back.

He went into the bathroom. There was no flood, but a blonde woman on her knees wielding a toilet bowl brush and a partially full bucket of water in his bathtub.

"Who the hell are you?" he barked.

The woman seemed to jump ten feet in the air. She spun around, pointing the brush at him like it was a weapon.

Benedict blinked. "Sophie?"

***

Her first thought was that she was going to kill Gabby. Her second was a string of curse words that she could almost hear her old headmistress saying that young ladies weren't supposed to know. 

She looked him in the face again, hoping against hope that despite the fact that she was standing in Benedict's home--in his _bathroom_ \--that he wasn't the one standing in front of her. 

He was.

And she was still pointing a toilet bowl brush at him.

Sophie dropped her arm to her side immediately, and tried to casually mop the sweat from her forehead. "Hello, again," she said, and then she cringed. There was no way this wasn't going to be awful. She didn't know why she was even trying. 

"Hello?" he repeated back to her. He stepped closer, his voice raising. "Hello?"

"It's been a long time?" She winced, as soon as she said it, and shook her head. "No. I'm sorry."

"Right answer," he growled, his hands knotted into fists at his side. It was strange how despite the fact that he was a very large man and that this was a very small space, Sophie had no fear that he would hurt her. She'd think about that later. When he wasn't crowding her into the sink. "For what?"

"Leaving? Being here? Ignoring the social media campaign your teammates launched to find me?" She blew out a breath, sending the remnants of the bangs she'd cut in penance out of her eyes. They were almost grown out and she was keeping them that way. "Which one do you want me to be sorry for?"

"All of them. Or none of them, if you're not actually sorry." He finished backing her against the sink, his arms caging her in. "So what are you actually sorry for, Sophie?"

She swallowed. He was so close. So close, and it had been so long since she had seen him, and they had so much unfinished business. She wanted to run away. She wanted to kiss him and never stop.

"Getting caught," she whispered, and she pulled his head down to meet hers.

***

Sophie was kissing him. He was kissing Sophie.

Benedict still had many questions for her--where she'd gone, what getting caught meant, what her last name was--but a day hadn't gone by since June when he hadn't regretted not doing exactly this and he'd be damned if he let her go again without doing it properly.

He put his hands on her hips and lifted, until she was sitting on the counter and he was standing between her legs. He palmed the small of her back, pressing her closer until they were plastered together, chest to chest. 

Someone moaned. He wanted to it to be her. 

His hand traveled up the length of her back, at a slow, torturous pace. They didn't stop kissing. He wrapped his hands in her hair, weaving her blond curls between his fingers. He tugged her head back, none too gently. 

"Are you going to leave me again?" he managed, his voice so choked that he barely recognized it as his own. 

She looked up at him with wide, aroused eyes. Her hands gripped the front of his shirt in tight fistfulls of fabric. She didn't answer him.

He tightened his own grip, just a little, tilting her head back. "Are you?"

Her mouth opened, but before she could speak, there was a loud blaring noise that filled the entire house. It was his security system, but he was certain that he'd disarmed it correctly when he came in. It would have gone off a long time ago if he hadn't.

Which could only mean one thing. "Stay here," he ordered, already turning away and heading for the bathroom door. He needed a weapon. He grabbed a stick from the closet. It would have to do.

Sophie was right there beside him, grabbing her own stick. 

"I told you to stay put!" he growled. "Can't you listen?"

Her eyes were fierce when they met his. "I'm not letting you go after them alone."

It went against every instinct, but he could tell it wasn't a fight he was going to win. "Stay behind me, then. Let's go."

Armed with hockey sticks, they crept down the stairs. The alarm kept blaring, until out of nowhere, it stopped.

Benedict looked back at Sophie. She shrugged. About to motion her forward, a voice rang out from the kitchen, clear as a bell. 

"It's about goddamn time you miserable piece of shit," said Violet Bridgerton.

Benedict blinked and stepped into the kitchen with the hockey stick still in hand. "Mom?"

A visibly frazzled version of his mother turned to look at him. "Hello, dear. Surprise!"

Sophie stepped into the kitchen behind him. Violet's eyes went wide, then narrowed in speculation. 

Benedict knew that look. He feared it too. The only way around it was to cut it off at the pass.

He hauled Sophie next to him and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Mom, this is Sophie." He looked down at her with a frown. "You know, you still haven't told me your last name."

***

Sophie wanted to sink into the floor and die. 

She'd never gotten this far in her daydreams about Benedict--meeting the parents, living happily ever after, etc.--because frankly most of them had been about the two of them having incredibly inventive sex in increasingly exotic locations. It was possible that hiding for so long had left her with something of an exhibitionist streak, which was also not something she wanted to be thinking about while standing in front of Benedict's _mother_.

She switched the hockey stick to her left hand, and held out her right. "Sophie Beckett," she said. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bridgerton."

Violet shook her hand, eyes narrowed as though she was trying to place the name. "Oh! _Penwood_. Tell me, do you often come out to personally oversee jobs?"

Benedict looked from one to the other, confused. "I'm missing something."

"I decided to come up early, but thought I'd treat you to that cleaning you mentioned the house needing first, for both our sakes." She nodded towards Sophie. "That company I referred you to back at Christmas? It's hers, you know."

Benedict looked down at Sophie. "I didn't know."

"Yes, well," Sophie said, embarrassed. It was honest work, but years of her father and step-family being ashamed of where the money was coming from, had left their mark. "And to answer your question, no. But the flu is going around and we're short staffed. I can't ask them to do more than I'm willing to do myself, so here I am."

"Very enlightened of you," said Violet. She looked up at her son. "I like her."

Benedict's arm tightened around Sophie's shoulders. "I like her too."

"Now that we know a burglar isn't breaking in, I should really go back upstairs and finish, and let you two catch up," Sophie said. She tried to slip out from beneath Benedict's arm, but his grip held fast. 

"Benedict," said Violet, with what Sophie could only assume was her mother's voice. It was very effective. 

Benedict's arm lifted, and Sophie bolted up the stairs. She'd worry about how to get out of the house without anyone catching her later.

For now, she'd escape.

***

Violet watched Sophie run up the stairs, and then turned to look at Benedict. "So she is real."

Benedict's jaw dropped. "Mom!"

"I'm just teasing, honey," Violet said, patting him on the arm. "Well, mostly."

"It's not funny," said Benedict, grumbling. He had at least thought she was on his side. He nodded towards her bags. "Do you want me to take those upstairs, since you're apparently staying?"

"They can wait," said Violet. "I think we should let Sophie finish in peace, since she so clearly wants to, don't you?"

"No," said Benedict flatly. 

"Good!" said Violet. She started towards the refrigerator. "Do you have any groceries in this place? I'll make you dinner. You're probably hungry. I know how that makes you cranky."

"That's Colin," said Benedict. "And no, I just got home from a road trip. My assistant was supposed to drop groceries off tomorrow morning." He shot her a pointed look. "I wasn't expecting company so soon."

His mother was not apologetic, not that he'd expected her to be. "We'll just have to go to the store, then. That's better, even. More time for Sophie to finish."

"But--" he tried.

She patted his arm, as she passed him on the way to the stairs. "You know her name, you know where she works. You can stalk her later." She leaned up the stairs. "Sophie! We're going out for a bit. So nice to meet you! I'm sure Benedict will be in touch!"

She headed back towards the door, snagging Benedict's arm on the way. 

He might have had a foot on her and least a hundred pounds, but he didn't even try to stop her. Violet Bridgerton in bulldozer mode was not to be defied. 

And maybe she was right. Maybe this was better. 

Let Sophie run away from him, from them, and let her think that he'd given up and she'd won. That would only make his eventual triumph even sweeter. 

Because he was going to win. Sophie just didn't know it yet.

***

"I can't believe he hasn't called," said Gabby, days later. She was pacing Sophie's office, and gesticulating wildly with a pen. "You don't just demand a woman not run out on you and then not call. Do you?"

"Don't ask me," Sophie said wryly. "I'm the one he didn't call, remember?"

"Ugh," Gabby said. She collapsed into one of the chairs across from Sophie's desk. "If you can't land a famous hockey player who gives every appearance of being stupid in love with you, what hope do the rest of us have?"

"More than I do," Sophie said, raising her eyebrow at Gabby. "Again, I'm the one he didn't call."

"Because I knew you wouldn't answer."

Sophie looked up, her heart speeding up at the sound of his voice. Because of course it was Benedict, standing in her office door as if she and Gabby had somehow summoned him and snuck him past security. Of course he was holding flowers and they were her favorite sunflowers. 

She was determined to let none of that show. "What are you doing here?"

Benedict looked at Gabby. "She didn't suffer any sort of head injury this week did she? Because I thought I was the one at risk for those and for memory loss."

"No," said Gabby, and it was more a sigh than an actual word. "You're Benedict Bridgerton."

"I am," he said, his most charming smile fixed firmly in place. "And you are…"

"Gabby," she supplied eagerly. "Sophie's assistant. I've heard so much about you. And looked so much up online too."

Benedict winced, and Sophie liked it. "Most of that isn't true."

"I only told Sophie the good things, don't worry," Gabby assured him. She stood up. "Would you like me to take those and put them in some water? I'm sure you and Sophie have...things to discuss."

"Don't you dare," Sophie hissed, but Benedict was already passing Gabby the flowers.

"You're a prince of a woman," he told Gabby. "We appreciate it."

"We appreciate nothing," said Sophie, futilely. "Pretend your job depends on you not leaving this room; don't pretend, it does!"

But it was too late. Gabby was gone and she'd closed the door behind her, leaving Sophie alone with the man who'd occupied far too many of her waking thoughts and nearly all of her asleep ones. She was ashamed of her subconscious.

"What do you want, Benedict?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "Tell me, and then you can go. We have nothing more to say to each other."

He smiled, and settled into the chair that Gabby had vacated, looking for all the world as though he had no intention of leaving anytime soon or for that matter, ever. 

"You."

***

Benedict smiled at the look on Sophie's face. A little bit of shock, a whole lot of pissed off, and underneath it all, the teensiest bit of interest that told him he still had a chance. 

He was a goalie. He knew all about how the smallest of cracks could be turned into gaping holes in a defense. He wasn't above using that knowledge to get what he wanted and what he wanted was Sophie.

"I'm not available," she said. "So if that's all?" She turned back to her computer, not even bothering to speak the rest of the dismissal.

He knew better than to find a woman's anger adorable--he had four sisters, after all--but it was really part and parcel of finding Sophie adorable, and he unquestionably did that. And besides, she had a right to be pissed. He should have called. 

"I'm sorry I didn't call," he said. "I could make excuses for you; I had extra practice, my mother was horrified by the state of my kitchen and my linen closet and my lack of throw pillows and made me visit every big box store in the greater Buffalo area, and that would all be true. But the truth is, I didn't want to call because if I did, and you said no, then I'd be a stalker when I kept calling and so I thought I should just wait and show up in person, but the week got away from me. It won't happen again."

"That's you not making excuses?" Sophie asked, her eyes still fixed on the computer. 

He grinned. "Something I can work on, under your diligent tutelage. I'll be the best student you've ever had, I promise."

She shook her head and pursed her lips, and it was completely obvious that she was trying very hard not to laugh. "I'm working," she said, once she'd gotten herself back to a state of control. 

"I know, and I'll get out of your hair as soon as you promise to have dinner with me tonight," Benedict said. "Please?"

She finally looked at him. "If I go to dinner with you, will you leave me alone after?"

He didn't like that question. This thing between them was too important to be defeated by one bad date, but he wasn't going to be the guy he'd always hated his sisters dating either. He nodded. "If you want me to."

"Fine," she said. "Dinner. Where?"

Benedict stood, and gave her his most charming evil grin. Time to unleash the big guns. "My house. I'll see you at seven, Sophie."

He didn't wait for her answer, but turned and walked out of the office.

***

Sophie knocked on Benedict's door at precisely seven o'clock. She had a bottle of red wine in her purse and a bouquet of wildflowers in her hand. Despite the fact that she didn't know if Violet Bridgerton was going to be there and despite the fact that she was telling herself that she had no interest in seeing Benedict past this evening, she was determined to make a better impression.

The door opened and Benedict stood in front of her, deliciously casual with bare feet and a shirt unbuttoned to precisely the place that made a woman want to press her lips in the gap. 

She thrust the flowers at him so that she didn't do anything stupid. "For your mother."

"She'll love them," he said. He stepped back from the door, to let her in. "Can I take your coat?"

The door closed behind her, and Sophie tried very hard not to make the everyday act seem like a metaphor for anything. She set her purse down on an end table, and slipped out of her coat. "Thank you," she said, passing it to him. She pulled out the bottle of wine. "This is for you, but your hands seem to be full."

"I can fix that," said Benedict, with his head inside the coat closet. He turned back to Sophie, who extended the wine to his hand. "Ready for dinner?"

"Yes," she said, and followed along behind him on the way to the kitchen. "I'm a little surprised that you didn't opt for the fancy dinner with fawning wait staff, though. Dinner at home is awfully...intimate."

"That's what he has me for, dear," said Violet Bridgerton. She held out a tray of bite sized food. "Canapes?"

***

The look on Sophie's face was priceless. Benedict had imagined this scene, but apparently his imagination wasn't good enough, because he hadn't even come close to the real thing.

"Hello," Sophie said finally. "What a nice surprise."

"Isn't it?" Benedict asked. He nudged her forward, towards the table. "Sophie brought you flowers, Mom. Wasn't that nice of her?"

"Very sweet," Violet said, taking them from Benedict's hand. "I don't suppose you have a vase."

Benedict shook his head regretfully. He was pretty sure that meant he had another shopping trip or eleven in his future.

"I'll find something," Violet said. She started rummaging through the kitchen cabinets she hadn't started rearranging yet. "Sophie, tell me about yourself."

Sophie shot Benedict an absolutely filthy look. It was kind of hot, even if he had no intention of telling her that. "What would you like to know, Mrs. Bridgerton?"

"Oh, anything. Did you grow up in Buffalo?"

"Mostly," Sophie said. "My father divided his time between here and the city, but I always preferred Buffalo. And I went to boarding school here for high school, so I was here most of the time."

Violet turned and looked back at Sophie, with a surprised expression. "Boarding school? When you were a local?"

"My father thought it would be a good idea," Sophie said. She hesitated, just for a second, but long enough that Benedict noticed, before she plowed on. "He'd remarried and his wife had...opinions, about things. It was for the best, really. I loved school."

"Where did you go to college, dear?"

"She's not at a job interview, Mom," warned Benedict. He set his hand on Sophie's back, in a way that he hoped was supportive. "Don't push."

"It's fine," Sophie said. She looked back up over her shoulder at him and gave him a faint smile. "I didn't go to college. My father passed away the summer after I graduated high school, and someone had to take over Penwood."

"You poor thing," said Violet at once. She looked like she wanted to rush over and give Sophie a hug, but knew equally well that it wouldn't be welcome. "I hadn't put the timeline together. I knew him, you know."

Sophie looked surprised. "My father?"

Violet nodded. "Not well. But his wife--" she made a face "--liked to be seen, and so we'd run into each other at parties from time to time. An unpleasant woman, your step-mother."

"Yes," said Sophie, briefly, in a way that did not invite any further conversation. "Is there anything I can do to help with dinner?"

Benedict wanted to hit something. He'd invited Sophie to his house to impress her, not drag up memories that were clearly painful. He didn't blame his mother; she was just being her normal, people loving self. He blamed himself.

He should have eased Sophie into this, eased them into this together. Instead, he'd thrown them off the high dive together, and there wasn't any net.

"Just have a seat," he said. "You're a guest. Guests don't help in Violet Bridgerton's kitchen. Right, Mom?"

Violet shot him an arch look. "Whose kitchen?"

"Mine," he said ruefully. "But you already did all the work, so…?"

"Always watch yourself with this one, Sophie," Violet said, as she started to turn off burners and pull things from the oven. "Give him an inch and he'll take a mile."

"I'm beginning to notice that," said Sophie. "I'll remember that."

She looked at Benedict then, and her eyes met his and for the first time since she came back into his life, Benedict knew real hope. 

***

> It's official, boys and girls, I'm issuing a new couple alert for one Mister Benedict Bridgerton. My sources have spotted him out with a mystery blonde in the last few weeks. No one has been able to name her for me yet, or confirm if it is _the_ mystery blonde, but never fear. We at Sources Say always get our (wo)man. 
> 
> ~ Excerpted from Sources Say, _The New York Post_

***

"You're grinning like an idiot again."

Sophie blinked and refocused on Gabby. "What?"

Gabby grinned at her from across the desk. "Oh, nothing. Just you you trailing off mid-sentence with a dreamy smile on your face. Like you have been for the past three weeks."

"I have not," Sophie said. She frowned. "Have I?"

Gabby nodded. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sophie demanded.

"I was sort of hoping you'd accidentally authorize across the board raises for your devoted and loyal staff," Gabby said. At Sophie's look, she held up her hands. "Kidding! Sort of."

Sophie gave in and laughed. "I'll take that under consideration."

"So it's good?" Gabby asked. She put her elbows on Sophie's desk and propped her head up on one hand. "You seem really happy, Soph. It's nice to see."

"It is good," Sophie said. "It's…"

She trailed off. She didn't know how to talk about what was happening between them. It felt like too soon to mean as much as it did, but undercutting how important he'd already become to her also felt wrong. 

He was the first person she wanted to talk to when she woke up in the morning, and the last she wanted to talk to before she went to bed at night. 

If this was infatuation, it wasn't like anything she'd experienced before. If it was love, then it was unlike anything she'd ever expected to find.

"Good?" Gabby finished for her. "You did it again."

Sophie blushed. "He makes me happy," she said simply. "In a way I never thought I would be."

"That's so sweet!" Gabby paused and considered. "Kind of cloying too, but it works for you. When is he coming by again? I feel the need to make sure he knows that someone is watching your back, since god knows that your step-family can't be bothered to be human beings."

"I don't want to think about them," Sophie said. "I thought for sure that I'd hear something after that gossip column yesterday, warning me not to get above myself, but nothing."

"Good," said Gabby. "Are you sure they'd be able to recognize you from that description, though? There are an awful lot of blondes in Buffalo." She lifted her own hair to illustrate. "And Ari and her familiars aren't exactly what I would call bright."

"Posy saw me at the party, remember? And she's usually in enough trouble with her mother that I couldn't even blame her for selling me out to protect herself."

"Well, I could," Gabby said, with a sniff. "And will, if she dares."

"Easy there killer," said Sophie, with a laugh. "I'm sure it's going to be fine. They haven't made a peep. And like you said, there are a lot of blonde women in Buffalo."

"Optimistic Sophie," said Gabby. She nodded approvingly. "I like it."

Sophie kind of did too.

***

"We need to talk," Benedict announced, walking into the kitchen. 

"I think you mean good morning," said his mother mildly. "Good morning, Benedict."

"Good morning, Mom," he said. "You need to go back to New York."

To his surprise, she didn't look startled and she didn't look mad. If anything, she looked pleased, and he didn't have any idea what that meant. She sipped her coffee and didn't answer him.

"Did you hear me?" he asked.

Violet nodded. "Yes, dear. I was just wondering how long it would take to get you to that point. I'm sure having your mother around has been cramping your style, especially since you're trying to woo a girl."

Benedict blinked. He really hadn't expected his mother to give in so easily. "So you'll go?"

Violet looked amused. "This instant? No. But I'll book a train ticket for the morning, will that be all right? That way I can still go to your game tonight. And then you'll leave on your next road trip and when you get back you can make this your love nest."

His face went hot. "Mom!"

"Too much?" Violet asked. 

"Just a little. Scratch that, just a lot."

"I know you have sex, honey." Violet stood up, coffee mug in hand. She patted Benedict on the cheek. "It's good for you."

He could not imagine a conversation he'd rather be having less. "Still too much!"

Violet shook her head. "You kids. You spend all your time as teenagers trying to sneak out of my house to have sex and then when you're adults and I'm perfectly willing to engage with you on the subject as adults, you turn back into teenagers."

"You're a saint," he said. "Just, could you be a saint who doesn't talk to me about sex?"

"Fine," she said, with a sigh. "I'm going to go pack and book a ticket. Will I see you before you leave for the rink?"

"Yes," he said. 

Before his mother could go upstairs, he reached out and engulfed her in a hug. "Thank you," he said, into her hair. "I'm pretty sure that I would have messed this up completely without you."

"Oh, Benedict," his mother said, pulling back and looking up at him with a fond smile. "I'm absolutely certain you would have."

***

Before Benedict, Sophie hadn't really ever considered what being in a long distance relationship with someone who lived only miles away from you would be like. When he was home, they got together most nights, alternating between his place and hers. It was a very domestic setup for all that they'd been together a very short time, but then every few days or weeks, he'd be uprooted and be gone for strange and not predictable amounts of time.

It was confusing and unsettling and maybe more than anything else, Sophie was unnerved by how quickly he'd integrated himself into her life and how much she missed him when he was gone. She was a complete person without him; surely she shouldn't need him that badly.

But still, the night before he was due home from a week long trip through the southern United States, and she was climbing the walls waiting for him to call once his game was over and he was back at the hotel.

It was pathetic. She was pathetic.

Determined to stop sitting around and waiting, she grabbed her purse and her phone and headed for her door. She'd go to a bar first and call a friend second. Getting out of the house was the important part and if she waited to have all the details lined up, she'd just stay home and watch the game.

But before she got to the door, there was a knock. Or more accurately, a loud repeating thump that was far louder than any normal knock had ever sounded.

She opened the door and immediately wished she hadn't.

Her step-mother didn't even wait for a greeting or offer one herself before she barged past Sophie and into the house. 

Sophie counted to ten before she turned around to face her, gently closing the door behind her. "Hello, Ari."

"I'm not here to make small talk," Ari announced. She stood in the center of the room, as if afraid that any of Sophie's modest belongings could give her a communicable disease. "You will stop seeing Benedict Bridgerton at once."

Sophie blinked. She'd been afraid of this, of course, it's why she'd fled the masquerade all those months ago. But she'd never imagined it playing out quite like this. "Excuse me?"

"I know you like to play stupid," said Ari, a sneering crossing her too tight face. "But I've always been wise to your act. You're dating a Bridgerton. You will stop. Immediately."

"Or what?" Sophie asked, shocking herself with the question. For so long, she'd always just given in to whatever Ari demanded, whether it was Sophie exiling herself in Buffalo or a greater slice of the company profits. But for this… maybe it was time to stand up to this particular bully.

"Or I will tell every client you have in New York about how you slept your way into a contract with Benedict and let the paranoid housewife rumor mill take care of the rest," said Ari flatly. 

Sophie gaped at her. It was a particularly evil threat, since in a business that prized discretion, one slip up of ethical standards would do untold damage to the business. "You're aware that doing that would ruin your own nest, aren't you? Hard to get company profits when there wouldn't be any."

Ari shrugged. "You'll get me my money either way. We both know that."

"Do we?" Sophie asked.

Ari smiled, cold and precise and perfect. "We do."

She strode past Sophie and to the door. "Don't keep me waiting, Sophia. You won't like the results."

With that, she disappeared back through the door and out of Sophie's home. But even if she was gone from her space, Sophie knew she wouldn't be gone from her thoughts.

What the hell was she going to do?

***

On the bus back to the hotel, Benedict hung up his phone. He scowled. 

"What's wrong?" asked Gunnar, the teammate unfortunate enough to be sitting next to him. "You look as though you want to break something."

"Sophie didn't answer her phone," he said shortly. "We were supposed to talk after the game."

Gunnar shrugged. "So she is busy doing something else. Do you really want a woman who will sit by the phone?" He nudged Benedict with his shoulder. "Or maybe she is waiting for you to call her later. For--" he nudged Benedict again "--you know."

"Yes, you're being very subtle. Maybe. I don't know." Benedict scowled at the phone in his hand again. "Is everyone getting a drink back at the hotel?"

"Yes," said Gunnar. "Are you going to finally join us?"

Benedict looked down at his phone one more time, then stuffed it into his pocket. If she wasn't sitting around waiting, neither was he. Absence was supposed to make the heart grow fonder or something. Maybe he'd been too clingy and this was Sophie trying to set boundaries or some shit.

He didn't like it. They'd sure as hell be talking about it later. But there was plenty of time to deal with that when they were both in the same city.

"Yeah," he said. "I'll get the first round to make up for being such a shut in."

"Drinks on Benedict!" Gunnar yelled out, and an appreciate roar went up on the bus.

Benedict rolled his shoulders, loosening them up. This was just what he needed.

And then--tomorrow, they'd talk. 

***

When the knock came on Sophie's door, she was ready for it. Unlike the night before, she'd expected Benedict to come straight from the airport. The missed calls and increasingly incoherent texts had prepared her for that.

"Hi," she said, opening the door. "I missed you."

Already in the act of storming past her, Benedict paused, looked down at her. "What?"

Sophie smiled, just a little, and stretched up on her toes to kiss him. "Welcome home. Sorry I missed you last night."

"Oh," said Benedict. He scratched at the back of his neck. "I, uh, thought that you were blowing me off."

"I was," Sophie said. 

He stared at her.

She pushed him further into the living room. "Go, sit down. I'll explain."

Once he'd done as she ordered, she sat down next to him. She took his hand in hers. "I haven't told you much about my family, have I?"

"No," said Benedict. "You mentioned them when my mother was interrogating you. But from what you said, I assumed you weren't close."

Sophie snorted. "You could say that." She took a deep breath, steadied herself. "So going back further than that, my father and mother were never married. She raised me for a few years, but she died when I was still a toddler and so my father had to take me in."

"Oh, Sophie," Benedict said. "Why didn't you--"

She laid a finger on his lips. "Just let me tell this, okay?"

He nodded, and she went on.

"He was never really that affectionate, but he made sure I went to good schools and had lessons and all that kind of stuff, and everything was fine. Then he married Ari, and she did not approve of well, me existing. I don't think my dad had really told her about me until after he'd proposed. They spent all their time together in the city, and then they got engaged and he brought her to Buffalo, and surprise!"

She took another breath. "Ari has two daughters, and I think Ari thought that my dad would be completely responsible for them all financially, but my father was resistant to doing that, because they had a father of their own. But to help with her scheme, she shipped me off to boarding school and my dad more or less moved to New York full time to be with all of them."

Benedict frowned. "Your dad is dead?"

Sophie nodded.

"Good," he said. He waved a hand. "Sorry, go on."

Sophie blinked, not really sure how to take that. "Anyway, there's not much more. My dad died the summer after I finished high school, so instead of going off to college, I took over the company. I'd already worked there every summer, so I had a pretty good feel for the place and dad's accountant helped me out a lot."

"Okay," said Benedict slowly. "Now explain how your step-mother is still causing you problems. Because, Sophie, that's the only thing I can figure is going on here."

She tried to smile, but felt it wobble. "Caught that, did you?"

His hands cupped her face and he looked her straight in the eye. "Sophie. When it comes to you, I notice everything."

Undone, she leaned in and pressed her lips very gently to his. "I love you. This is absolutely the wrong time to tell you that, but I just had to."

His mouth curved into a smile. "Yeah? Me too."

He kissed her this time, then drew back. He took her hands in his and squeezed them. "Go on."

"My dad didn't update his will before he died," she said, after a moment. "Everything went to me."

Benedict frowned. "I don't understand. That's a good thing, isn't it? He was only married to that woman a few years, but he was your dad your whole life."

"Yes," said Sophie. "But Ari threatened to sue me--the estate--and take everything away from me, close Penwood because of the cost of defending the suit."

"Tell me you went straight to a lawyer," he said.

She shrugged. "I was eighteen and my dad had just died. I was trying so hard not to drown, Benedict. So I gave her money and promised her more and she went away."

"Honey," said Benedict, and he drew her into his arms. "And you've been paying her ever since?"

Sophie nodded against his chest. It was so nice here, having told someone else what was going on. It had been so long since she'd told anyone any part of it, not even Gabby knew everything. But she couldn't stay here, not when she wasn't finished.

She made herself pull back. "There's more."

Benedict raised an eyebrow, but waited for her to go on.

"She came down here while you were gone. Last night. She wants me to break up with you. She said that she'd do her best to black ball Penwood if I didn't, and she could. She knows everyone, even if most everyone hates her."

"You're not breaking up with me," said Benedict.

"No," Sophie said, a smile playing at her mouth. "I was going to, and then I decided telling you the truth was a better plan."

He pointed at her. "Yes. Good. Let's stick with that instinct."

She swatted at his hand. "That's not helping me keep my business."

Benedict grinned. "I think I know someone who can help with that."

***

> Boys and girls, do I have a gossip treat for you. Violet Bridgerton, our very favorite hockey mother and mother-in-law, is taking off her social recluse hat and she is throwing a blind auction to benefit Garden of Dreams. 
> 
> The guest list? We can only assume that many of her children will be in attendance, as well as their respective partners. Could this be our first chance to see Benedict's mystery blonde up close and personal? We certainly hope so.
> 
> ~ Excerpted from Sources Say, _The New York Post_

***

Benedict could tell that Sophie was nervous. He squeezed her hand. "It's going to be fine."

She didn't look at him, but kept her eyes fixed firmly on the entrance to the ballroom where the auction was being held. "Okay."

"Sophie, honey," Benedict said. He moved to stand in front of her, tipping her chin up to meet his. "I won't let anything bad happen. My mother won't let anything bad happen. None of my brothers and sisters will let anything happen. You have an enormous messy family at your back now. We'll take care of you."

Her hands relaxed in his, just a fraction, but he could tell he'd gotten through to her at least a little. He suspected she wouldn't truly relax until this was all over. He couldn't blame her for that.

"Where do you want to go when the season's over?" he asked her, as a distraction. "Anywhere in the world, you name it. Just the two of us."

"What?" she asked.

He was asking her where she wanted to go on their honeymoon, but he didn't think she needed to hear that quite yet. "I get at least a few weeks of R&R before I have to start training in earnest for next season. We should take a trip somewhere. Get away from everything."

"You don't want to spend that time with your family?" Sophie asked. She nodded her head towards the ballroom, where most of his siblings were scattered around despite the short notice. "You all seem so close."

"We are," he said. "And yeah, normally I would spend at least some time down here with them or we'd all go on some trip together. But I want to do that with you this year." He winked at her, luridly. "My brothers will understand at least."

"Benedict!" she said, sounding utterly scandalized, which was a major step up from near nervous panic in his book. 

He shrugged. "They've got eyes in their heads. But they won't say anything. I'd have to beat them up and we all have contracts that prohibit that kind of off ice behavior."

Sophie shook her head, smiling at him all the while. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do with you."

He wanted to say 'marry me.' He didn't. 

From across the room, his mother gave him a nod and the moment evaporated. He squeezed Sophie's hands. "Ready?"

She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She looked grim, but determined. "Ready."

Hand in hand, they went off to confront her worst nightmare.

***

According to the plan, Sophie and Benedict were to go wait in one of the small rooms adjoining the ballroom, and that Violet would then bring Ari to them. There was nothing wrong with this plan; Sophie had agreed to it. But somehow she hadn't calculated what the waiting would do to her already frayed nerves. 

If the wait was long, Sophie was going to come out of her skin. 

Fortunately for all concerned, Violet Bridgerton was nothing if not efficient. Sophie and Benedict went into the room, as ordered, and almost immediately after, Violet appeared with Sophie's evil step-mother in tow. 

"As you can see," Violet said, as she led Ari in, "this is where we're keeping our most exclusive--"

"You," said Ari, in a voice filled with rage. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Yes, I thought we all knew each other," murmured Violet. She shut the door behind Ari. "There, now we're nice and private."

Benedict touched her hand, and Sophie straightened her shoulders. She would not be cowed by this woman any longer. Ten years of torment was enough for anyone and she did not have to take it any longer. 

"Hello, Ari," she said. "I'm sure you're surprised to see me here this evening."

Ari's eyes narrowed. "Whatever else you are, you've never been stupid, Sophia. You were given very simple instructions. I can't imagine what reason you have for not following them."

"Me," said Benedict, from beside Sophie. Ari's eyes swung towards him, and he gave her a particularly vicious smile. "I'm the reason. We haven't met, but I'm told you wanted to end my relationship with your step-daughter. I can't possibly think what business us dating could be of yours, considering you're no part of Sophie's life."

"I don't need to explain myself to you," said Ari, with a sniff. "Sophia and I have an understanding."

"She wanted you for her daughter," said Violet helpfully. "I can't prove that, of course, but more than one person has noticed that she'd on the catch for an athlete husband for her eldest daughter."

"Rosamund," Sophie said, with a shudder. She looked up at Benedict. "You wouldn't like her."

He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. "I like you."

Sophie beamed up at him, then turned back to Ari. "If it wasn't completely clear, we're done. The bank of Penwood is closed. I will not be breaking up with Benedict to keep you away or avoiding the entire city of New York in an attempt to keep away from you and your daughters. I exist. Get used to it."

"Brave talk," said Ari. "But are you really prepared for me to sabotage your livelihood?" She raised her cell phone. "All it takes is one phone call to start a rumor spreading."

"About that," said Violet, and she snatched the phone from Ari's hand and dropped it in a glass of champagne.

Ari shrieked and grabbed the glass from Violet's hand.

Violet smiled. "I'm so terribly sorry. What a terrible accident."

"That was no accident." Ari pointed a finger at Violet, then Sophie, then Benedict. "You're all going to pay for this! Every single one of you!"

"Certainly, if you think that's necessary," said Violet. She held out a pen and a stack of paper. "But you're not leaving this room until you sign these."

"Are you insane? I wouldn't sign anything you gave me in a million years," Ari declared. "Let me out right now or I'll scream."

Violet stepped closer. "You'll sign these papers waiving your rights to any part of Penwood and protecting it against either a slander or libel campaign and you'll do it now, or we'll make sure that your own behavior towards your poor, innocent, orphaned step-daughter makes every society gossip column in the country. How many party invitations do you think you'll get when you look like the heartless monster that you are, Araminta?"

Ari narrowed her eyes. "You wouldn't."

Violet narrowed hers right back. "Wouldn't I?"

Sophie watched the staredown between the two women, with shock. She'd known that Violet was a force to be reckoned with--she'd experienced that herself, first hand. But knowing that and seeing that work be done on your behalf, that was something entirely different.

She leaned up to whisper in Benedict's ear. "Your mother is amazing."

"Thank you, dear," said Violet, not breaking her staring contest with Ari for a second. "Ready to give up?"

Ari didn't answer. But it was only seconds more until she broke under the sheer force of Violet Bridgerton's will.

"Give me those," she said, grabbing them from Violet's hand. She scrawled her name on all the marked sections and when done, thrust them back at Violet. "I hope I never see any of you ever again."

"The feeling is entirely mutual," said Benedict. He opened the door to let her leave. "Have a miserable life, Araminta."

With a final glare, she disappeared, clutching her still wet cellphone to her breast. Sophie watched her go, not quite believing that it was finally over. 

"I'm free," she said.

"Yes, you are," said Violet fondly. She looked at her son. "I expect you to make the most of that."

"Yes, mother," said Benedict. He nudged his mother towards the door. "Why don't you let me take care of that on my own?"

"Are you sure you understood? Grandchildren," Violet elaborated. "I want them soon."

"But--" Sophie started, looking confused.

"Goodbye, mother," said Benedict, and he closed the door behind her.

Sophie looked up at him, still not at all certain what was going on. "Benedict, I don't understand."

"My mother wants me to marry you. And for us to provide her with grandchildren. Preferably in that order."

Sophie felt her eyes go wide. "What?"

Benedict kissed her and Sophie's brain fried. "We'll talk about it later. I love you. Okay?"

"Okay," she said. 

***

_Three years later…_

> Rumor has it that the next generation of Bridgerton hockey players will grow by one in the coming months. Guesses as to names? There seems to be a strong bent towards the traditional in this clan. Simon and Daphne gave us Amelia and Belinda. Kate and Anthony have an Edmund. And of course, Benedict and Sophie's soon to be big brother is named Charlie. This author has personally always been very fond of the name Alexander; maybe they'll take it under consideration for their new baby.
> 
> Three adult Bridgerton children down and five more to go. Better watch out, Colin. If we know Violet Bridgerton, and we like to think that we do after all these years, your single days are numbered...
> 
> ~ Excerpted from Sources Say, _The New York Post_

***

"How does she always know!" 

Sophie winced, and nodded towards the sleeping toddler in her arms. "Inside voice, Benedict."

"Sorry," he said, more quietly, and came to take Charlie from her. They executed the pass with the ease of long practice, and Charlie instantly settled against his father's chest. "I just don't understand. We didn't tell anyone but my mother."

Sophie leaned back against the kitchen counter and looked up at her husband with a fond, amused smile. "Sweetheart. We told your mother."

"Which means we told Manhattan."

Sophie nodded. "It's okay. We were going to announce it on instagram next week anyway. I don't mind being scooped by Sources Say. She's been very good to us, after all."

Benedict softened, looking down at their sleeping son. "That's true."

She pushed off the counter and stretched up to give Benedict a kiss. "Come on, then. Time to put both my Bridgerton boys to bed."

Benedict's eyes lit. "Oh, really?"

Sophie just smiled.


End file.
